


Never had You Pegged as

by thecoldlightofday



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoldlightofday/pseuds/thecoldlightofday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon asked for "Shane/Maggie...with pegging."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never had You Pegged as

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://cuntsthatwere.tumblr.com/post/37777541467/never-had-you-pegged-as).

Shane thinks it figures Glenn would get the girl that drives him crazy in the best of ways.

Not that he minds who Maggie ends up with at the end of the day. What matters is that right now he has an eyeful of Maggie’s tanned back and shoulders that taper down into a trim waist that flares out again into solid little hips. Even better though, is the curve of her ass, all firm, rippling muscle as she works herself on his cock. And it’s like they’re barely moving, his dick sliding in her so slick and smooth.

He has both hands on her hips, pulling her down hard to meet him, holding her still as he rocks up into her, watching her fingers grip the sheets as she tips her head back and gasps. He loves the look of it, his cock, thick and red, shiny as she pulls up on him, all of him outside her except the head. Her thigh muscles are locked, facilitating each time she hauls herself upwards, then going slack when she drops onto him again. Her pace is wild and unfocused, nothing like when they first started, her fucking herself on him controlled and teasing, trying to get him to demand she get going.

She’s coming, suddenly, though not surprisingly, cunt clenching rhythmically around him even as he continues pushing into her, fucking her hard through each wave of shudders. She slumps when it’s over; sagging forward like the only thing keeping her up is his cock in her and his hands on her hips. He likes to think that’s all that’s keeping her from flopping over too.

Then she’s swinging herself up and off him, walking on shaky legs and wobbly knees to her dresser. She keeps her back to him, trembling minutely while she roots through her socks.

“Looking for something?” He asks her, craning his head to see. Flat on his back the way he is, his vision is partially obstructed by the jut of his cock.

She doesn’t answer. Whatever it is, she finds it, and turns around to give him a view. He’s a little slow to see it, more preoccupied with the sweet way her breasts bounce as her arms quiver with movement. His eyes follow the line her arms are making, past her belly, finally stopping at her hips. And he’s taken back, if only for a moment. He isn’t expecting to see a dildo there, thick and obscenely veined and fat. It’s a fairly standard strap-on, a few ridges along the base. It hooks around Maggie’s thighs and pelvis with some plastic straps.

She stares at him like he’s supposed to be intimidated. It’s hard for him to see her as much more than a pretty piece of ass he’s hellbent on fucking, the way she’s got a full flush to her skin, breathing hard. He just cocks an eyebrow, hand drifting to his dick that’s still wet from her, and he jacks himself once in full to show her he’s still plenty hard.

As she gets closer, the strap-on starts hanging crooked, dipping down on her left-hand side.

“Might want to do the buckle up properly,” he says, laughing. He reaches over and fixes the last three loops of the buckle she’d done out of place. “There.”

“Shut up,” she snarls at him, all spit and fire and narrowed eyes. She looks him over for a second before she climbs onto the bed. “I’ll be gentle,” she adds, nothing in her tone but condescension, stubborn and pissy like she’s really going to get the best of him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, stretching out across the mattress, his head on her ridiculously plush pillows. “What makes you think you’re the first?”

That just makes her madder, his talking to her like she’s barely more than a schoolgirl in his eyes. He enjoys the way that anger looks on her. Her cheeks deepen in color, corners of her pink mouth curling in a frown. He prefers her blazing with passion, no matter the kind.

“Roll over,” she orders him, tone deep and authoritative. She’s going to show him who’s boss.

He’s got no problem going along with her.

She doesn’t do much to lube him. Shoves him full of her fingers a few times, stretches him like it’s just mechanics, not like someone with real experience who knows it can be _fun_. Shane’s been with a lot of women. All this is proving is that at heart Maggie’s only a girl.

He’s happy to see how this plays out though, crouched on all fours, letting her crowd in behind him, one of her hands smearing lube on the inside of his thigh. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was curious, if the prospect of her going at him with that dildo didn’t have him hard. The idea of Maggie Greene, Hershel’s oldest daughter, pretty thing he’d no more than ten minutes ago gotten to shake apart on his cock, ramming him with a sex toy she hides in her sock drawer has him halfway to coming already.

She pushes in fast and unsteady. She’s got no real control of the penetration, is just going for it, pressing deeper and deeper in, sliding and jerking with uneven bursts of strength. She’s still too fucked out by him, orgasm weak, to do much of anything. That has him smiling into his arm, throat going tight against the hurt. She stops when she’s all the way inside him. He’s pretty sure it’s to give herself a break. Her breathing’s a few shades heavy, her body still a sex-flushed pink.

Maggie starts going. It’s not impressive, shallow fucks at the wrong angle—fucking him for fucking’s sake, not to try and get him to lose control. He lets her have at him for another few moments, then he turns around and grabs her, strap-on bumping his cock as he shoves her down like she’d done to him earlier. Climbs on her like she did him, no reverse cowgirl this time. He wants to see this show.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, rocking on her. Her hair is fanned out in all directions, mouth half open and pupils blown wide. She looks wrecked underneath him, vulnerable and so turned on.

Maggie tries to answer, but her voice is caught soft in her throat. She runs her hands up him, over his thighs and his waist and his stomach, smoothing her fingers over any skin she can reach, gripping at his ass once over, fingertips sliding to rub against the rim where her strap-on has him stretched inside. She loses interest in that as soon as he starts moving. Her thumbs rub over the indentations of his hip bones, slowly back and forth.

It’s better this way, him being the one to set the tone of it. She’s the one doing the “fucking,” but he’s the one with the power and control. And it’s been a while since he’s done this, since before the world ended, and he gets into it, nearly slamming himself onto her, bed springs creaking as his hips roll. Maggie watches him, grinning at him like maybe this is exactly what she wanted, Shane fucking himself down on her, desperate for it, groaning as the strap-on brushes at his prostate, silicon firm and unyielding and perfect inside him.

Maggie fucks into him, some of her strength finally coming back. Her thrusts are brutal, her whole back arching off the mattress. Her eyes are wide and fixed on him. Shane can’t do anything but press into it, voice slurry from trying not to moan. This is just what he’s been missing. He’s coming without even touching himself, all over Maggie and his own belly, grinding down against the strap-on stuffed inside him one last time. He’s breathless and panting, rising off Maggie and her plastic cock with a sigh. She gives better than he expected. Better than he thought he could ever get from a tight-assed farmer’s girl.

He settles on the foot of her bed weakly, his own body trembling as he works to put himself together. He tries not to look too much up at her, splayed out suggestively for him, legs wide so he can see everything, brushing a finger over the head of her fake cock.

“Well?” Maggie says. Her grin’s smug, self-righteous satisfaction. Girl thinks she’s done _good_.

“I’ve had better.”


End file.
